Dogs Are Evil
by Scottie-195
Summary: Ed starts to get jealous of Winry's dog,Den. Al gets worried about his brother and asks a certain colonel for help. What will happen? Read to find out!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Dogs are evil," Edward Elric informed his younger brother darkly.

Al raised an eyebrow, bemused at this out-of-the-blue statement. His older brother was scowling heavily at the direction of a very contented Den warmly snuggled in Winry's arms on the rug at the other end of the living room.

"Look at that shameless creature," Ed muttered, glowering at the happy canine. If looks could kill, Den would have been burned into doggy crisp by now. "Look at that! He's probably getting her affection now as a-a-a _trophy _and then he'd stomp on her heart and find _another _gullible woman to cuddle with! That manipulative, no-good, evil, lecherous, old-"

"Nii-san, are you talking about Den or Colonel Mustang now?" Al inquired, alarmed. Ed usually reserved that particular 'manipulative-evil-lecherous-etc-etc' rant especially for the colonel whenever he decides to dump all the leftover paperwork on Ed so he could leave the office in time for yet another date.

"I'm talking about that lechourous dog, you idiot!" Ed growled, golden eyes still burning holes into a happily oblivious and very comfortable Den. "That stupid, bloody, dimwitted, underhand, scheming, womanizing flea magnet! He's so-so-so-"

"-so adorable?" Al smirked, comprehension dawning on him at last.

"He is NOT adorable!" shrieked a disgusted Ed. "Oh God, not you too, Al! You're fallen under the spell of that lecherous dog! Am I the only one who realizes the true, evil nature of this creature? WAKE UP AL!"

"Nii-san!" Al yelled, trying to fend off his brother who was slapping him hard on the face and continuously screaming, "Snap out of it! Snap out of it! Snap out of it! Dog is _evil_! Snap out of it!"

"NII-SAN!" Al hollered. He sighed inwardly. He had just gotten his body back and he did _not_ want red hand-shaped marks decorating his face. People would assume he was a-a-a perverted peeping tom or something!

Winry raised her eyebrows at the very odd picture of the elder Elric slapping the younger Elric on the face. She wasn't near enough to hear what they were both screaming about but knowing Edward Elric, she was much better off not knowing.

Al growled in impatience and dragged his kicking, screaming and slapping brother out of the living room and up into their room. Ed had calmed down by then but he was still muttering darkly about lecherous dogs under his breath.

"Nii-san," Al sighed, partly in exasperation and partly in amusement. "Are you actually feeling jealous of a dog?"

His brother paused dramatically in a mid-rant about scheming dogs who manipulated the hearts of innocent, young girls.

Al watched with rather sadistic amusement. First, his brother gapped open mouthed as his brain processed this simple statement. Then, as his brain correctly interpreted and reinterpreted the information, his face would flush abnormally red. After a few seconds of soundless, red-faced gaping, then came the loud, aggressive, violent denies.

"Hmm, it seems nii-san has problems expressing his affections towards Winry so he channels it in rage and jealousy," Al thought, inwardly, somehow ignoring his brother's suspiciously shrill yells of denial. It was just a matter of getting used to it, as Al told many people who inquired about his unnerving ability to endure his brother's infamous rants without feeling the need to smash his head against a wall. The trick was to think about kitties and chocolates and sunshine and kitties and marshmallows and kitties.

"-I ask you Al, why would I be jealous of that disgusting, drooling creature? Huh? HUH? I have absolutely NO reason to be jealous! That's right! You heard me! I'll show you I'm better than that _thing_! That _thing_ is not worthy of my jealousy! Your brain probably got screwed by that evil dog as well because there is just NO WAY IN HELL I'M JEALOUS OF THAT _DOG_! YOU HEAR ME, ALPHONSE ELRIC? YOU HEAR ME?"

"Yes, nii-san, loud and shrill," Al muttered under his breath. He was thinking hard. His brother needed help…he _really_ needed help. Al wasn't exactly savvy either when girls were the subject. No, he needed an experienced person. One who had bravely endured the battlefield of oddities and mood swings of women. One whose skills with women surpassed the level of any living mortal man. Yes, the perfect person for this dilemma was….

"What brings you over here to Central, Alphonse?" Roy Mustang asked, pouring some tea for the younger Elric in his office.

"I need your help, colonel," Al said, straightforwardly. No time to go beating around the bush. Al had tried to go to Central alone but his brother insisted on following. Al tried to deter his brother by saying that he was really going to attend a kitty convention in Central but Ed said something vaguely like 'killer kittens' and obstinately held his ground. Al guessed this had something to do with an incident involving Ed babysitting eleven energetic kittens a few months ago.

Up to now, Ed still flinched at the mention of the words: Cat, Kitten and Feline. The only reason why he could sneak off to see the colonel now was because he told his brother he needed to use the bathroom.

"Yes?" asked Mustang, curiously. Al blurted out the story in less than a minute.

'Well, well, well," smirked Mustang "Little Edward's finally reached that age, hasn't he?"

"Ehehehe," Al scratched his head "Guess so."

"Of course I would help you! You know I'm always there for my subordinates!" Mustang flashed a suspiciously charming grin.

Al grinned thankfully in return. "So how do we help him?"

"Fullmetal needs some hands on experience," replied Mustang, nodding wisely. "He is severely lacking tact, sensitivity, patience and of course…skill in this delicate area. At the rate he's going with Miss Rockbell, he'd end up with more concussions than dates..."

Al agreed ruefully. He knew deep down inside Ed cared Winry very much but he just had problems expressing it. His brother had gotten so good at hiding his feelings that now he had problems with _expressing_ his feelings instead.

"Do whatever it takes, colonel. I want nii-san to be happy," Al stated firmly.

Ed sneezed in a café somewhere in Central. He rubbed his nose and slurped his drink noisily, ignoring disapproving sniffs from the stuck-up lady sitting at the next table. Ed wondered vaguely what was taking Al so long in the bathroom. He hoped Al was alright in there...he _knew _Al shouldn't have drunk two cups of milk that morning. Milk was evil…almost as evil as lecherous dogs….

"Ah, Edward Elric! What an astonishing coincidence!" boomed a horribly familiar voice. Ed winced, hoping against hope that it wasn't….

No, those are _not _pink sparkles…

No, those are _not _overly bulging muscles gleaming freakishly under the sun…

No, those are _not _customers rolling around screaming and clutching their eyes in agony.

No! No! No! NO!

"Edward Elric!" rumbled Alex Armstrong, joyously. He wrapped the horrified young alchemist into a rib-cracking hug.

"I-I can't-can't breathe-" Ed managed to choke, his arms and legs flailing around desperately. He was lifted a clean five inches off the ground.

"Where have you been?" cried Armstrong, hugging the now-turning-purple boy tighter. "I can't imagine why you didn't stop by for a visit in ages!"

"I-I can't imagine why either-" Ed choked, he somehow managed a sarcastic comment with his air circulation blocked.

Armstrong put the boy down and wiped his gushing tears with a pink handkerchief. Ed sighed in relief. All the other customers were shielding their eyes from the sparkling sight.

"Ummnn, would you kindly tell your daddy to put his shirt on?" a mortified waiter whispered to an even more mortified Ed,

"He is not my father!" Ed hissed back, horrified. Ed shook his head in disbelief, making a mental note to never come back to this café if they thought he was _related _to that overly muscled freak. He would never ever come back to this café again……

"Oh," the waiter regarded Ed awkwardly for a moment before continuing, "In that case, would you kindly tell your _boyfriend_ to put his shirt on?"

……or he could just blow up the whole damn café into dust…….

"Why on earth would you think he's my _boyfriend?_" inquired Ed, eyes twitching violently. Hey! Looks like the anger management course Al made him join was working! He wasn't massacring the waiter into bloody lumps of meat…yet. Meanwhile, Armstrong was somehow interpreting the screams of revolution and horror as screams of applause and approval because he beamed and continued to flex his muscles even more.

The waiter, unaware the fate of the café rested in his hands uncomfortably mumbled, "Well, he was _cuddling _you half naked…."

…..yep, definitely blowing up the whole damn café into dust….

Anger management never came out with the scenario: "What if you were in a café and utterly unfairly accused of having a sick and wrong relationship with a man who _waxes_ his horrifically humongous muscles everyday until you could practically see your reflection in them?"

So….it was _technically_ not his fault if he blew up the café into oblivion…right?

Right! So, now then….

"YOU SICK, PERVERTED BASTARD! DO I LOOK LIKE A-A-A PERSON WHO WOULD DATE _GUYS_? HUH? HOW DARE YOU CALL ME AN ULTRA SHORT, SUPER SISSY, GIRLISH LTTLE MIDGET WHO IS TOO SHORT TO GET GIRLS SO HE GETS GUYS INSTEAD?"

"But-but-but-but-" stuttered the poor terrified butler, clutching the tea tray like a shield.

"OOOH, SO YOU SAY THAT SHORT GUYS AREN'T GOOD LOOKING ENOUGH! FINE THEN! PREPARE TO BE CRUSHED UNTIL EVERY DROP OF BLOOD OOZES OUT, EVERY BIT OF BONE GROUNDED TO DUST, EVERY CELL, EVERY NERVE, EVERY BIT OF SKIN, EVERY STRAND OF HAIR, EVERY-"

"Calm down, Fullmetal, or the military would have to pay the bill for the therapy of yet another traumatized victim,"

"Co-Colonel Bastard!" Ed screamed in shock. The 'Colonel Bastard' in question had seemingly just emerged from a bakery clutching a bag of donuts.

Mustang scowled deeply, "Fullmetal. Do you not remember chapter eleven, verse nine hundred and sixty five in the military guideline that _clearly_ states that _you must respect the officers that hold a higher rank than you_?"

"Eh, there was a military guideline?" Ed scratched his head. Mustang was convinced he did this on purpose to aggravate him.

"It's not surprising you couldn't remember. After all, your memory is as short as you are anyway," Mustang replied, smirking.

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING A PUNY, TINY MIDGET WHO IS SMALL ENOUGH TO GET BLOWN OVER TO ISHBAL BY A SINGLE GUST OF WIND?" roared Ed, predictably "AND FOR YOUR INFORMATION, I GREW HALF AN INCH THIS WEEK! HAH!"

"So your height now should be around….an inch and a half?"

"NO!" Ed screamed back. This was definitely not his day. He had bumped into two of the people he _least_ wanted to see in Central all in a day! In hardly twenty minutes since he arrived! In the same place!

Armstrong deflected the warm, friendly greetings of the Flame Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist with a passionate roar, "Roy Mustang! You look pale and peaky, colonel. You should consider working out more to obtain a beautiful and finely-carved body…like mine!"

"Noooooo," moaned the other customers as Armstong proceeded to flex his shinning muscles in every possible angle once again. A shower or pink sparkles lit up the entire café.

"….Fullmetal, what are you trying to do with that fork?"

"Shut up, Colonel Bastard. I'm trying to gouge my eyes out,"

"…Give me that fork, Fullmetal. I think I need to gauge out my eyes too."

"Wait for your turn, idiot,"

"Chapter hundred and three, verse forty eight: You should give priority to the health and sanity of your superiors. And if I see those freakish muscles flex another time I'd loose my health _and_ my sanity,"

"Odd, I thought you lost your sanity a long time ago,"

"..Just give me the bloody fork and I'll forget that comment,"

"No,"

"Fullmetal, I'm quite prepared to fight to my death to obtain that fork,"

"Bring it on, Colonel Bastard!"

Just around the corner, Al groaned as he watched the unfolding drama between the two alchemists.

That night at an inn, Alphonse Elric suffered yet another long and heated 'bastard-colonel-rant' from his brother who was spouting a bloody nose from his battle-la-grande with the colonel over a……..fork. Thank goodness Riza Hawkeye showed up with her trusty gun.

"Nii-san, calm down or your nose will start bleeding again," Al said, his patience wearing thin.

"Brilliant! Maybe if it bleeds enough I would die of blood loss and I wouldn't have to see that smug I-am-twenty-million-leagues- better-than-you-pipsqueak moron colonel tomorrow!" Ed snapped "That jerk is making me report to his office tomorrow morning and we're still on a friggin' holiday!"

"Just go and see him, nii-san. It must be really urgent for the colonel to call you back during a holiday," said Al, calmly though his legendary gentleness and patience was evaporating bit by bit.

"Urgent! That's a good one! Remember the time he made us hurry back all the way to Central because of an 'emergency' during an important mission to just get him some cookies?" Ed demanded.

"He said the cookies were crucial for his latest experiment," Al defended, somewhat lamely.

"An experiment on how far he can push the Fullmetal Alchemist before he ends up six foot under in a metal box filled with pythons?"

"_Nii-san_," Al rubbed his eyes, exasperated. Oh, the things he did for his brother.

"No, Al. I've seen enough of that bastard's face to last me an entire lifetime when I was busy shoving my fist into it at the café,"

"_Nii-san_," Al repeated, showing his best adorable-little-brother-who-is-disappointed-in-his-mean-older-brother glare.

"Damnit Al! Don't give me that pathetic look!" Ed pointedly looked away and glared at the wall.

"_Nii-san_," Al dredged up his _very_-adorable-little-brother-who-is-_very_-disappointed-in-his-_very_-mean-older-brother glare.

"All right! Fine! Whatever!" Ed cracked like an egg. "I'll see that bastard colonel tomorrow and if his reason for making me see him is anything less than his life being in mortal danger, in which I would find very entertaining, I will personally make sure his face will forever bear the imprint of my fist, my _metal _fist."

"_Nii-san_," Al scrunched up his _extremely_-adorable-little-brother-who-is-_extremely-_disappointed- in-his-_extremely_-mean-older-brother glare.

"Al, you're pushing it. May I _at least_ break both his legs if it turns out to be another poke-fun-at-the-midget fiesta?"

"One leg,"

"Deal,"

Ed stomped in his usual oh-so-cheery manner into the Headquarters the next day. Various officers unfortunate enough to get into his way found themselves trembling at the heavy scowl and the steady stream of obscenities flowing freely from his mouth. Each officer proudly admitted later on to their disbelieving colleagues that they had learnt fifty new swear words from this inspiring young man.

"Yo, boss," greeted a surprised Havoc, clutching a mug of coffee "I thought you were on holiday."

"So did I," Ed mumbled under his breath, his scowl darkening. It pleased his sadistic streak to see the stacks and stacks of paperwork piled magnificently on every desk. At least he wasn't the only one suffering.

Riza Hawkeye seemed to be surprised to see Ed as well. This bothered Ed very much. If Mustang called Ed to his office for an official reason, Riza must've known about it, right?

Ed let himself into the colonel's office in his usual polite little way. Mustang winced slightly behind his desk at the resounding crash. He sighed; the door was brand new! Ah well, at least it wasn't him paying for the damages, thank goodness.

"What the hell do you want, bastard?" Ed demanded in a way of greeting. He scowled and plopped himself heavily onto one of the leather couches.

"Why, good morning to you too, Fullmetal," Mustang greeted, sarcastically "Do you feel an overwhelming need to wreck my door every time you drop by for a visit to my office?"

"It's not my fault you cheapskates use cheap doors," Ed replied, crudely.

"Ah yes, I forgot you _must _announce your presence in the loudest way fathomable. After all, that's the only way people can sense your tiny being. One must rely on one's sense of hearing when one's sense of sight fails,"

" MUSTANG!" screamed Ed, enraged. The colonel leaned back and sighed in sadistic satisfaction at the tirade of foul words, swears and curses. A visit from Ed was never complete without baiting a shortness-induced rant from him. Not that it was difficult of course……

After Ed used every swear word in the book and had creatively invented a few more, he had to stop his impressive rant due to the lack of air.

"Now that we had got that over with, let's go on to the reason why I called you to see me _during your holiday_, yes, Fullmetal, I get that well-stressed point,"

Ed waited apprehensively. Was it another cookie mission? Was it another trip to get the latest edition of some sappy shoujo manga? Was it yet another expedition to get the limited edition of the newest brand of hair conditioner from a shop full of squabbling ladies who all seemed to want the same brand as the colonel?

"Fullmetal, you are no longer a boy, though your size has probably deluded many of that particular fact," Mustang began, smoothly.

"Shove it, Mustang," replied Ed, sullenly.

Mustang ignored him and went on, "When a boy turns into a man, even a short one; a powerful and sacred knowledge is passed onto him in order to carry the proud legacy of men. An ancient secret passed down through thousands of generations. Many heroes had sacrificed themselves in order to obtain this powerful knowledge."

-Insert spotlight on Mustang here-

Ed didn't even notice the jibe at his height. He was rather awed at what Mustang was saying. What sacred knowledge? What ancient secret? He unconsciously leaned forward in anticipation.

"It is known as the noble art of….." Mustang paused for dramatic effect.

Ed's golden eyes were wide with curiosity and eagerness.

"………_flirting_,"

-Insert Hallelujah chorus here-

Ed's jaw dropped as he gawked at the colonel in a mixture of disbelief and incredulity. He inwardly checked over and over again if he heard right. Damn, he did heard right! _Flirting?_

"Wha-Wha-Wha-Wha-WHAT?" Es spluttered, evidently still trying to regain his power of comprehensible speech.

Mustang scowled in impatience. He worked so hard to achieve the correct dramatic effect and that ungrateful shrimp was ruining it! If it were Havoc or Breda, they would be stomping their feet by now and screaming, "Amen, brother!" or something.

"Yes, Fullmetal, _flir-ting_," Mustang repeated, slowly "Mostly, guys your age, thought not necessarily your height, would already have an extensive database on this particular field by now. You however, are remarkably dense and oblivious on this crucial subject."

Ed was still gaping in silent shock; shocked enough to let the short taunt slip through.

Mustang continued, "So, you need an experienced expert to guide you through this treacherous path. Out of my deep generosity, I will share my secrets and my perfected techniques to you. Something many men –coughHavoccough- will kill to obtain."

The message finally seeped into Ed's thick skull. His face went bright red and he screamed, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU CALL ME BACK ON MY HOLIDAY TO DISCUSS FLIRTING? GET A BLOODY LIFE! DO I LOOK LIKE SOME SORT OF PERVERTED WOMANIZER? DO I LOOK AS IF I ACTUALLY WANT TO LEARN YOUR CORNY TECHNIQUES? NO! SO IF YOU EXCUSE ME, I'LL LEAVE NOW SO YOU CAN ENTERTAIN YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS IN PEACE, YOU SICK, PERVERTED BASTARD!"

Ed banged his fists violently into the colonel's expensive, real-oak desk. Mustang stared in dismay at the dents and the huge cracks. The desk was also brand new due to a certain incident involving trying to burn paperwork on a wooden desk a few weeks ago. Oh, the joys of military expenses.

Ed turned to stomp out of the office. Mustang smirked and called out, "Denial is always the first step, Fullmetal."

"I am NOT in denial," Ed roared, infuriated.

"If you say so" Mustang smirked again "You're just too chicken to accept my training, aren't you? What? You scared it'll be too hard for your delicate, _tiny_ body?"

"WHAT?" Ed yelled, face twitching in anger "I'm not friggin' scared of you, bastard! And I am NOT delicate and tiny!"

"Prove it,"

"Gaarrrrghhhhh!" Ed was caught neatly in the trap.

"Well, Fullmetal Pipsqueak?"

"FINE!" exploded Ed, banging his fists on the desk once more. Mustang stared in delight at the amount of paperwork that got destroyed in the process.

"Good, see you tomorrow. I'll pick you up from the inn," Mustang said, briefly. He looked at Ed straight in the eye and continued, "You'd probably thank me in the end. I know Miss Rockbell would, at any rate."

Ed gaped at the colonel and flushed bright red. Why was everyone assuming that he _liked _that violent wrench-banging girl? First Al, now the colonel. Joy! Waaiiiit a minute………

The colonel found out –no- _assumed _he liked Winry just after Al mentioned the very same thing just before they went to Central. Ed mentally put two and two together and stomped out of the office, muttering something about little brothers who would soon wish they were still in a strong, metal armor where they couldn't feel any pain.

That night at the inn………….

"………Nii-san?" Al called out, timidly.

"What?"

"May I come down now? It's getting cold up here on the roof,"

"No. Suffer up there in the cold,"

"Yes, nii-san," Al sighed, rubbing his numb hands together.

REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2

First……I'll proceed to manically huggle everyone who reviewed my previous chapter to death! Mwahahahahaha!...Ok, now that I've got that over with, here's chapter 2...here's a hint: I like reviews ;)

The next morning was bright and cheerful. Ed, being the cheery morning person he was, grumbled and snuggled deeper into his cocoon of warm blankets. He sighed in comfort. He loved drowsy mornings when it seemed so slow and lazy, so peaceful and quiet, so serene, so-

"NII-SAN! WAKE UP! WAKE UP NOOOWWWW!"

…And people thought his little brother was a sweet, polite, lovable, undemanding little dear……sighs……

Al had to threaten Ed on the pain of murder, torture, humiliation, execution and singing (don't ask) before Ed finally consented to get up and stumble ungracefully into the bathroom. No military officers would have problems with negotiations if they had Edward Elric for a brother.

"Ah, Fullmetal, right on time," Mustang greeted Ed as the young boy stomped moodily out of the inn.

"Whatever, lets get this over with, bastard," Ed muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Good morning, colonel," Al smiled apologetically. He turned to his brother and said, "Well, nii-san. Good luck! I'm off the –uh- Kitty Convention."

"Goodbye Al. Enjoy your pleasant day knowing how much misery I'm about to go through because of you," Ed said with a large, fake, overly sugary smile.

"Eheh, I'll remember," Al sweat dropped. He gazed beseechingly at his brother and mouthed, "_Behave_,"

Ed merely stuck out his tongue, which was not at all very reassuring. As he walked away, Al felt very thankful he wasn't going to be with the colonel and his brother today.

"Shall we go my young apprentice?" Mustang said with a mock bow.

Ed glared and pointedly walked pass him. Mustang caught up with him easily, having longer legs and all.

"Now, remember. The first thing you've got to know is women are suckers for flattery. Some try not to show it, few are totally unaffected, a lot of them pretend to be cool and calm but most of them blush shyly, provided you lay it in the correct amount of flattery and warmth,"

Ed nodded skeptically; quite certain Winry was one of the few who were not affected.

"Be careful not to lay it on too thickly or even the most innocent ones are bound to get suspicious. This theory has been tested and proven by a certain Jean Havoc," Mustang continued, with a touch of smugness.

Ah, so that was where Havoc was getting those black eyes, Ed concluded. He felt a touch of sympathy for the older man.

"Take this young lady here for example," Mustang nodded towards the direction of a pretty young girl. Suavely, he walked towards her. The girl looked up at him and blushed slightly. Mustang always had that unfair effect on women.

"Hey, baby. If I could set the alphabets I would've put the U and the I together," Mustang said, smoothly, with a charming smirk.

Ed was silently gagging as he watched this little episode. Ergh, even he thought that line was beyond corny and he was only a novice! Kick him! Ed silently cheered for the girl. Slap him! Hit him! Karate chop him! Knee him! Do whatever you want, just inflict immense pain on that womanizing bastard!

To Ed's surprise, the girl blushed even more and smiled shyly.

"I suppose a sweet girl like you won't mind having dinner with pathetic old me tonight?" Mustang mercilessly went on. The girl's eyes widened and she nodded shyly but eagerly.

"Good, pick you up at 7," Mustang called to her as she walked pass. "Take as long as you want to get ready. I don't mind waiting. The results would definitely be worth it."

The girl promptly walked into a lamp post.

Ed gaped, open mouthed. That corny, clichéd, shudder-inducing line actually worked? His opinion of the female IQ dropped considerably.

"Now you try it," Mustang said with a satisfied smirk.

Ed drew in a deep breath and strode purposefully towards a red haired girl sitting on a bench. The girl raised her eyebrows and asked uncertainly, "Um, may I help you?"

"If-If-If," Ed gulped, face flushing "If umm…..if," Mustang groaned into his hands. It was painful to even watch this.

"-IF I COULD SET THE ORGANIZATION OF THE HUMAN BODY I WOULD HAVE PUT YOUR HEART AND MY NERVOUS SYSTEM TOGETHER!"

Many painful minutes later, Mustang suppressed a snicker and tried to look sympathetic for his subordinate who was lying on the ground, rubbing the Mt. Everest on his head.

"Tsk, tsk. The Fullmetal alchemist, beaten senseless to the ground by a female armed with nothing but a_ handbag_," smirked the colonel "Be sure to add that into your record."

"The handbag was made out of friggin' _crocodile skin,_ you moron," Ed glared murderously at the oh-so-sympathetic colonel.

"Ah well, since the flattering tactic won't work on you, let's move on to another strategy," Mustang suggested, quickly changing the subject "Unlike flattering, the use of the brain and imagination, which you notably lack, is not required in this particular strategy."

"Stuff it, bastard," Ed growled.

"Any experienced person in this field would note the one thing most women are powerless against is," Mustang paused for dramatic effect "_Cuteness_."

"Wha-?" Ed blinked.

"Cuteness!" Mustang growled, exasperated "You know, kawainess, adorableness, sweet, endearing. Am I going too fast for your intellectually challenged mind?"

"What has cuteness got to do with anything?" Ed asked, still looking blank.

"Well, my dear, naïve pupil, if women have one weakness, it's the fearsome power of cuteness," Mustang nodded wisely.

"So? Does this mean you dress up in a bunny suit or something whenever you ask a girl out?"

"_No_. The men _aren't_ the ones supposed to look cute," Mustang explained, with strained patience.

"Then _who _or _what _is supposed to be cute?" Ed demanded, clearly still confused and not very happy about it.

Mustang sighed, "Must I spell everything out for you?"

Ed's answer was merely a glare.

"Fine, women in general are suckers for anything remotely cute," Mustang explained "Like little kids, kittens, puppies, and doggies."

You got that right, Ed thought darkly as he was reminded of a certain 'evil, manipulative, lecherous' dog.

"Now, to demonstrate," Mustang dragged Ed towards another lady who was buying some gossip magazine.

"Good morning, ma'am," Mustang grinned. The woman merely smiled politely back. She obviously wasn't as naïve as the other girl Mustang was going to date that night.

"Say hi, Eddie," Mustang patted Ed fondly on the back. Ed glared at him and was about to open his mouth to scream when Mustang cut him off.

"He's my ten year old nephew," Mustang explained to the woman "His parents are living abroad so this little mite is living here with me."

What? Ten! Ed was going red from rage as he clenched his fist.

"Awww, he's so cute!" exclaimed the woman, patting Ed's burning face fondly "Such rosy cheeks! And look at that adorable pout! He's so endearing! You must be so proud of him."

The women bent down and engulfed Ed in a suffocating hug. The boy squirmed uncomfortably in her grasp.

"Aww, the sweet lad's shy," the woman smiled, ruffling his golden hair "He's ten? He's rather short for his age, isn't he?"

Mustang coughed as he hid his wide smirk. Ed was rapidly working up a rant. Noticing this, Mustang quickly engaged to woman into conversation.

"You like little kids?" Mustang asked.

"Oh yes!" she answered, brightly "I'm a kindergarten teacher, you see."

"I knew it! Kindergarten teachers always have this certain sweet, lovely smile," Mustang replied, suavely "You, of course, are an understatement of this."

The woman blushed slightly and smiled, "You joke a lot, Mr-?"

"Mustang," answered the colonel, grinning charmingly "You can just call me Roy, of course, no need to be formal. May I know your name, miss? I always make a point to know the name of a sweet face like yours."

Ed noticed the woman was slowly letting her guard down. He won't allow that pervert to score again! He grinned evilly and adorably shuffled to Mustang's side. Ed tugged at Mustang's sleeve and pouted in a way that would make even Scar go "awwwwww".

Ed used his best cute-little-boy voice and whined, "Grandpa, how much longer are we gonna stay here? Mommy said you _promised_ to take me out for a sundae. I'm _hungry_, grandpa!"

The woman stared at Mustang in horror. She turned to Ed shakily asked, "What do you mean 'grandpa'? Isn't he your uncle, sweetie?"

Ed blinked his determinedly wide and innocent eyes and answered in the same high, little-boy voice, "Grandpa _always _tells young girls that I'm his nephew but he's actually just my old grandpa!"

The woman gaped and glared murderously at a bewildered and horrified Mustang.

"Grandpa's _always_ talking to younger girls like you, ma'am!" Ed finished magnificently.

"But-But-But," stuttered Mustang, quivering visibly under the woman's glare.

"Oh right! I'm sorry, grandpa! I forgot you told me not to tell anyone you were my grandpa," Ed faked a childish, apologetic look. "I'm so sorry. Does this mean I don't get my sundae?"

"You-You-" the woman started quivering too "You nasty, old PERVERT! HOW- DARE- YOU- USE- YOUR- LITTLE- GRANDSON- TO- HIT- ON- YOUNG -GIRLS? YOU-YOU'RE A-A- DIRTY- _OLD- _MAN! USELESS- PERVERT!"

At each separate word, the woman punched the poor colonel hard in the face.

"Hmph!" the woman huffed and turned to stomp away. Mustang lay in a crumpled heap on the ground.

"Tsk, tsk. The Flame Alchemist, beaten senseless to the ground by a woman armed with _nothing_," Ed smirked, bending over the crumpled heap "Be sure to add that into your record."

Mustang couldn't even manage a glare. He sat up, shocked beyond belief. In the first time in his life….._he got rejected by a girl..…and punched nonetheless_. Other than Hawkeye of course but she doesn't count. No man, not even Mustang, had dared to try the barest trace of flirting with her...except the ones who were drunk or plain stupid of course. They were never the same again…in fact; most of them became blond women phobic.

"Um, earth to the Bastard?" Ed waved a hand in front of Mustang's glazed face.

Mustang grabbed Ed's collar can screamed into his face, "I GOT FRICKIN' REJECTED!"

"Uh, yeah. You don't have to tell me. It was pretty obvious," Ed tried to shake the broken men off him.

"I GOT FRICKIN' REJECTED!" Mustang screamed again, rattling Ed until his teeth chattered.

"Yes, I _know_. The punch marks show up pretty clearly under a bright morning like this," Ed rolled his eyes.

"I.GOT.FRICKIN'.REJECTED!" Mustang was deaf to the outside world; trapped in his own little world of shock and dismay.

"I'm telling you, Hawkeye, I had nothing to do with this! I swear!" Ed tried to explain to a very annoyed Riza Hawkeye.

Due to intense shock, the colonel suffered a nervous breakdown and had to be carted off to the hospital for therapy and treatment.

A hospital attendant at the counter nervously interrupted, "Ano, I'm really sorry but we're kind of full. We only have an economy size room left. It'll be a bit small but-"

"No," Riza cut in firmly "The colonel gets nothing less than a suite."

Riza glared, daring the poor attendant to challenge her. The attendant squeaked, "I-I'll see what I can do. Maybe there are one or two patients checking out today."

"You see to that," Riza nodded, satisfied. She turned to Ed and frowned severely "The colonel was with no one but you when he landed into this condition. It is also a well known fact that you dislike the colonel almost as much as you dislike milk. Do you see the connection here?"

"Hey, just because I don't like to colonel doesn't mean I would get him into trouble like this!" argued Ed, insulted. Riza merely raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, I _would_," Ed grudgingly admitted "But that does not mean I had anything to do with this case!"

"So you _just happened _to be there when the colonel mysteriously suffered a nervous breakdown?" Riza demanded, coolly.

"Well, yeah!"

"And you have absolutely nothing to do with this?"

"Well, no- but what if I told you the colonel got hurt while he was busy hitting on girls?"

Riza narrowed her eyes. "You mean the reason why he demanded a sick leave today was so he could hit on girls?"

"Um, yeah?"

Riza abruptly turned to the hospital attendant who was frantically searching for an available suite for the colonel.

"On second thought, the economy size room would do just fine for the colonel," Riza said, in a dangerously pleasant tone "In fact, a broom closet would do even better."

The hospital attendant nodded shakily and squawked, "We'll find the biggest and most comfortable broom closet we have!"

"Oh no," Riza smirked "No need to go through all that trouble. Just find the smallest, dirtiest, most uncomfortable broom closet you have. It would suit the colonel just fine."

Ed shuddered. Hell hath no fury indeed….

"Ah, Edo! Al! You're back!" Winry greeted the two brothers eagerly, giving each of them a big hug, though Al slyly noticed that Ed's hug lasted four minutes longer than his and still counting.

"Nii-san, Winry-san, you can stop hugging now. The people outside are starting to point," Al grinned, amused.

Winry and Ed broke apart abruptly and flushed.

"Um, I-I'll go tell granny you're home," Winry mumbled before dashing away. Al could practically see smoke coming out of her ears.

"You must be _pretty _happy to be home, eh nii-san?" Al nudged his flushing brother.

Ed glared at him and pathetically mumbled "Shut up, Al."

"Ah well, you should've picked up a thing or two from the colonel so you should do fine," Al teased.

"Yeah: only try your corny lines with women who have IQs lower than 20," Ed snapped before collapsing grumpily onto the nearest couch.

Al laughed and said, "Well, I'll go ahead and unpack. Come up and help me after you decide to peel yourself off the couch."

"That won't be anytime soon," Ed yawned "You might as well do all the packing."

Al nodded before taking the suitcases upstairs. He planned to do the unpacking anyway as his brother's idea of unpacking was to shove as many articles of clothing into the wardrobe as possible.

Ed slowly dozed off and was awaken by the sound of tinkling laughter. He cracked open a golden eye and saw Winry cuddling with Den on the rug again. He scowled darkly.

"You might as well marry that damn dog," he snapped at a surprised Winry.

Winry frowned, "What on earth do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all!" Ed burst out childishly "Continue your sentimental bonding session with that _dog_."

"That _dog _has a name, Ed," Winry shot Ed a dirty look.

"That's right! Defend that flea-ridden mutt," sneered Ed in disgust.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you suddenly so mean to Den?" Winry demanded with hands placed firmly on her hips.

"Just look at that dog! He's just _using _you, Winry! I mean, you treat that bloody dog as if he were some handsome, brawny prince or something!"

"You're being ridiculous!" Winry flared up "I treat Den for what he is: A loyal, trustworthy best friend!"

"I'm also your 'loyal, trustworthy best friend' but do you treat me how you treat that lecherous mutt? NO!" Ed argued; face flushed in anger.

"Why you-" Winry suddenly paused, comprehension dawning at last. She smirked, "Ed? Are you jealous of my relationship with Den?"

Ed blushed wildly and flailed his arms in all directions and screamed, "OF COURSE NOT! WHAT ON EARTH GIVES YOU THAT UTTERLY, UTTERLY UNTRUE IDEA?"

"Oh nothing" Winry smirked even more as she watched Ed go from pink to red to maroon to purple.

"I AM NOT J-" Ed began but was rather nicely interrupted by Winry planting a soft kiss on his lips.

Ed gaped at a triumphant Winry and tried to find the correct words to express his feelings. But as he stared into Winry's soft blue eyes he knew she understood anyway.

Winry smiled softly and snuggled her head into Ed's shoulder. Ed stiffened at first but gradually relaxed. After all, it _did_ feel quite nice and comfortable like that.

Over Winry's shoulder, Ed could see Den staring at both of them. Ed childishly stuck out his tongue at the dog and smugly thought, "Hah! I win this round, you lecherous flea magnet."

Ed could have sworn he saw Den wink at him.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

"So your brother and Winry finally got together?" a completely cured Roy Mustang smirked.

"Yes, colonel," Al replied, smiling amusedly. He had once again snuck off to the colonel's office without telling his brother.

"Good, good. I thought he'd never make it," Mustang grinned "This is all my doing, I presume?"

Al inwardly rolled his eyes but he was spared the prospects of answering when Riza Hawkeye entered the office with a fresh stack of paperwork for the colonel with a certain young pup prancing near around her legs.

"Good morning, First Lieutenant Hawkeye," Al greeted, always to polite one "Isn't that Black Hayate?"

"Yes, it is," Riza smiled a rare, fond smile at the pup. He dashed eagerly towards Al who petted him on the head "He wasn't feeling well this morning so I didn't feel like leaving him alone at home."

"Your paperwork, colonel," Riza dumped the stack onto the new, metal desk; the military treasurer got tired of buying new desks for the colonel over and over again.

"Come on, Black Hayate-gou," Riza called. The pup happily jumped into Riza's open arms. She picked up the pup and walked towards the door.

Black Hayate licked his mistress's face lovingly and Riza's usually steely eyes softened as she affectionately cuddled him closer and lovingly stroked his soft, downy fur.

Mustang grumbled darkly, "You know what, Alphonse? Dogs are evil."


End file.
